“No!” almost shrieked Miss Milborne. “And I wish you will not call me Bella!”
“Oh, very well, Isabella, then!” said his lordship, willing to make concessions. “But won’t you — ”
“ No!” reiterated Miss Milborne. “Go away! I hate you!”
“No, you don’t,” said his lordship. “At least, you never did, and damme if I can see why you should suddenly change your mind!”
“Yes, I do! You are a gamester, and a libertine, and
“If you say another word, I will box your ears!” said the Viscount furiously. “Libertine be damned! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bella!”
Miss Milborne, aware of having been betrayed into unmaidenly behaviour, burst into tears. Before the greatly discomposed Viscount could take appropriate action the door opened and Mrs Milborne came into the room.
Mrs Milborne’s eye took in the situation at a glance, and she lost no time in hustling the discomfited young man out of the house. His protestations fell on inattentive ears. She said: “Yes, yes, Anthony, but you must go away, indeed you must! Isabella is not well enough to receive guests! I cannot imagine who can have let you into the house! It is most obliging in you to have called, and pray convey my respects to your dear Mama, but at this present we are not receiving visitors!”
She put his hat and his gloves into his hands and inexorably showed him out of the front door. By the time she had returned to the drawing room, Isabella had dried her eyes and recovered her composure. Her mother looked at her with raised brows. “Did he make you an offer, my love?”
“Yes, he did,” replied Isabella, sniffing into her handkerchief.